


Broken Records

by TheMercWithAMouth



Category: Marvel
Genre: Domestic Violence, Eating Disorders, M/M, Peter is a dancer, Powerless AU, Superfamily
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-07
Updated: 2012-09-14
Packaged: 2017-11-13 17:46:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMercWithAMouth/pseuds/TheMercWithAMouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter is the 17 year old son of Tony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries, and Steve Rogers, the poster boy of the army. He's got a secret, he's going to dance despite being banned by his parents several months ago. Wade Wilson is an 18 year old who doubles up as a punching bag for his alcoholic father. What happens when the two lives cross and an unbreakable bond is built between the two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meet Peter.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a powerless AU, so the Avengers don't exist and Wade remains unscarred. 
> 
> *THIS MAY BE TRIGGERING IN SOME WAYS*

As the music crescendoed, the lean brown-haired boy began a series of near perfect turns. He hoped that his stumble on the last one had gone unnoticed by the woman controlling the CD player at the other end of the room. 

“Peter!” The yell of his name, in her heavy French accent, indicated that she hadn’t just over looked the mistake, and Peter had to admit that a part of him always knew that there wasn’t a chance in Hell that she would. She stopped the music and walked over to him, her face a mixture of anger and exhaustion. “Oh Peter. What are we going to do with you?” She placed her hand on his cheek as her face softened. “You’re such a talented dancer but little mistakes like this are going to cost you big things, things that your father won’t be able to fix with his money.” 

“You think I don’t try to fix them Madam Benoit.” Peter raised an eyebrow at her as he pulled his head away from her touch. “And I told you, my father doesn’t know I’m still dancing, after the problems I’m banned from it.” He swallowed thickly, not wanting to think about the events of the past few months, he was sure that he’d almost torn his family apart. “Can we please not mention him in future lessons? It’ll make my concentration even worse and I just... I can’t let that happen right now.” 

The middle aged woman gave the boy a frown before speaking again. “Peter. I’ve told you multiple times you must, and I mean that it’s vital for you to have any career in the future, you must block out your past. These events, these problems are left at the door and when you enter my studio you are a dancer and a dancer only.” Peter nodded, wishing it were as easy as she made it out to be, but the problems that he’d been through lately were impossible to just leave at the door, no matter how much he wanted a future in dance. He began to collect his things, changing his shoes and pulling his grey hoodie and a pair of sweatpants on.

“Oh and Peter?” He raised his head and looked over at the woman. “Don’t think that because you make small mistakes, you don’t have talent. You’re one of the most gifted individuals I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.” She gave him a warm smile before gesturing for him to leave.

“Thank you for your time, Madam Benoit. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He called back as he hurried down the old staircase, he’d always been a fan of the stairs that led to Madam Benoit’s studio even the chipped paint made him smile. He’d been coming to Madam Benoit’s since he was a small child, well he was six years old when he started dancing and he’d never thought he’d love it as much as he did. 

Peter wasn’t a normal kid in any way, picking dance over sports and being naturally gifted in Science and Mathmatics. The second part was expected though, given Peter’s parentage, he was the son of Tony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries and easily one of the smartest people on the planet. His other father, Steve Rogers, was an ex soldier and an artist although he wasn’t quite as well known as Tony, Steve was still quite the star in his own right, he’d been the face of army recruitment since he was 24 and had a book written about him, discussing his rise from a small, weak kid from Brooklyn who wouldn’t run from a fight to the ultimate soldier. He’d retired from service when they’d adopted Peter, when Peter was 5 years old. Peter was 17 now and was beginning to make his own way in the world, as best he could with the papers following him as much as they followed his fathers, he’d decided that he wanted to become a dancer, a serious dancer, when he was 10 and had worked as hard as he possibly could at that which meant that he was travelling around the country a lot to attend competitions and spending a lot of money on his costumes. He hadn’t been able to go to a competition in months and he doubted that he’d be allowed to attend one for a long time.

Peter’s desire for everything to be perfect meant that he’d taken a lot of the other dancer’s comments to heart, comments about his large thighs and his gut, which didn’t exist, meant that Peter had developed an eating disorder. His disorder had lasted two years, until his fathers had decided that he had a problem and had sent him to get treatment, the treatment and getting better came a price. He wasn’t allowed to dance any more, his fathers had forbidden it when he’d revealed what had sparked the problem but as dangerous as it was for him to go, the threat of relapse would always be around and each of them knew that, he didn’t want to give up on his dreams. He was planning on telling his parents when the time was right and he was sure that he wouldn’t be triggered easily and he hoped that the day he told them, they’d allow him to start attending competitions again.  
The entrance and exit of the studio was located on a small street in Brooklyn, a street that Peter couldn’t help feeling a little uncomfortable on. It wasn’t that it was empty, oh no it was far from that, it was just a little rumour that his father had told him a long time ago. He’d been told that it was the most dangerous street in Brooklyn so Peter couldn’t help being a little cautious, it didn’t stop him from admiring the window displays of the stores that littered the street on his way to the subway though. Peter was doing so when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Um. Excuse me?” He turned, coming face to face with a boy who didn’t look much other than him, he looked at Peter thought his blonde hair that draped over his face. “You should take better care of this.” He held up Peter’s wallet. “Someone just went to pickpocket you and you were too busy staring at a window that you didn’t even notice.”

“Did they?” Peter’s hand’s instantly went to the back pocket of his sweatpants, where the one pocket he had was empty.

“Yeah, I recommend not putting it in your back pocket, kiddo.” The guy laughed as he handed the wallet back to Peter.

“Wow, um... Thanks.” Peter frowned. “I don’t know your name...”

“I’m Wade Wilson. I’ve seen you a couple of times at school. You’re the Stark kid, right?” The boy smiled as Peter nodded. “Well, it was nice meeting you Stark kid. See you round.”

And with that the boy rushed off and Peter was left, staring in the direction he’d just gone, hoping that their paths would cross again soon.


	2. And then there was Wade.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade Wilson has a lot to deal with but things are starting to look up.

“Don’t hide from me you stupid, little piece of shit.” 

Wade Wilson had been called many things in the 18 years he’d been on the planet. ‘Sweetheart’, ‘honey’ and ‘baby boy’ were the three that made him smile they reminded him of his mother. ‘Worthless’, ‘piece of shit’ and ‘punching bag’ were the ones that made him want to crack skulls they reminded him of his father. He never understood how two people, two people who were polar opposites, could end up together, when he was younger his mother would tell him that his dad hadn’t always been like this but when he’d been dishonourably discharged from the army, he’d changed. He didn’t believe that for one second, he thought that his father had always been a bastard and he’d just been able to hide it before the army decided to let him go, he’d made sure to tell his father that multiple times. 

“I wasn’t hiding.” Wade growled at his father as he walked out of the kitchen. “I was making food. God fucking forbid that I do that.” He glared at the man who was turning red with anger. Wade barely had time to register what was happening as his father grabbed the plate out of his hand and launched it at the wall to his right. 

"Did you just mouth me, Wade?" His father asked with a grin, knowing that there was no answer the boy could give that would keep him safe. If he said yes then he'd be punished for not respecting his elder, if he said no then he'd be punished for lying. Wade took a deep breath and looked at him, weighing up his options, trying to pick which would give him the less sevre beating. He was late for work already and lying would mean he'd be an hour late, disrespecting his father would make him a half hour late. It was times like this that he missed his mother desperately, knowing that she would never have let the man touch him, never let him get hurt. If his mother were still here then his father wouldn't have a reason to beat him, he wouldn't blame Wade for her death.

"I'm sorry..." He said quietly, knowing that it wouldn't change what was about to happen. He'd barely finished speaking when his dad had landed the first punch on his cheek. The savage beating lasted a half hour, like Wade had expected it to. He went to the bathroom and cleaned himself up, wiping the mixture of blood and tears from his cheeks, he hoped that the woman who had hired him wouldn't ask too many questions about the injuries.  
He got to the dance studio around 5 minutes after he'd left the hell he called a home. He'd found the owner in her office, reading some newspaper clippings that obviously featured her dancers. Wade's eyes drifted to the many awards and pictures that littered the office.

"I trained every single person in the photographs if you're wondering." She spoke suddenly, causing Wade to jump. "You must be Wade?" She cocked an eyebrow at him. "You're half an hour late, you know?" 

"I know, I'm sorry. I just have fa-."

"Family problems?" She cut Wade off before he could finish the sentence. "I completely understand and since it's your first day, I won't take any of your wages. Just try not to let it happen too often." She smiled softly at him. "We've got all kinds working here, I just ask that you don't take advantage of it and only take time away when there's a genuine problem."

"I won't, I really need this job." Wade gave her a sad smile before taking a deep breath. "Where would you like me to start?" Almost as soon as he'd asked, the woman was thrusting a uniform at him.

“Practice room 1. There’s a student in there but he won’t mind if you’re cleaning whilst he’s practicing. He’ll be there for a good few hours and rarely makes a mess.” She smiled at him as he walked out. He walked to the locker room and got changed quickly, noticing the number of lockers. There seemed to be around 30 and he was slightly confused as to why a dance studio that was so small needed such a large staff locker room.

It took him a little while to get to the practice room, considering the amout of cleaning products he’d had to collect on his way there. When he finally got there and pushed the door open he was greeted by a remix of ’Let It Rock’ and the Stark kid, who he’d saved from a pickpocket two days earlier, dancing his heart out to it and miming the words. He stood and watched for a minute, noting the boys every move. The boy must have been so lost in the song that he didn’t notice Wade until he’d finished the routine, giving him a horrified look.

“How long have you been there.” He asked quickly as he began to gather his things, Wade couldn’t help thinking that it was like seeing a deer caught in headlights.  
“I watched the routine, sorry.” Wade answered him immediately, this kid could probably have him fired if he really wanted to. It seemed to stop the kid as he dropped his things and frowned slightly at Wade. “I was sent in to do the cleaning...” Wade explained quickly, hoping that the kid didn’t think he was just there to watch him.  
“Wow, um... Okay.” 

“Yeah so, do you mind if I clean, Stark kid?” Wade smirked slightly, he couldn’t help calling him that as it was what he’d called him any other time he’d been mentioned in conversation. The kid let out a laugh.

“Call me Peter.” He smiled as he went back to the CD player and pressed play again, Wade stole glances at him as he cleaned. He couldn’t help grinning when the boy mimed placing a crown on his head at a certain part. He also couldn’t help hoping that this wasn’t the last time he’d get to see Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :) And thanks to the people that have given kudos.
> 
> If anyone was wondering what Peter was dancing to it can be found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5le9fc0v2xg&feature=g-hist


End file.
